Quiet Consolation
by Medie
Summary: Cordelia's having trouble sleeping, her thoughts keep going to a certain vampire...Who's off grieving for a love lost.


Title: Quiet Consolation

Author: Medie

Rating: PG

Category: Introspective, Cordelia-Fic,

Keywords: Romance, Angst, Comfort

Spoilers: For the end of Season 2 I think it was when Angel disappeared to  
'get over Buffy's *death*'

Disclaimers: The bunch from Angel belong to their production company but I  
wouldn't mind having Dennis around if they don't mind!

Quiet Consolation  
by Medie

Staring at the ceiling was not the best way to spend the night. Any night.  
And staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep because of *him*? That was...

That was...

Sighing in annoyance, Cordelia Chase threw back the covers and sat up.

In the living room, a light clicked on and she picked up her robe which  
waited on the end of her bed. Sliding into it, the slim brunette rose and  
walked out to find a cup of hot cocoa floating in midair.

"Thanks Dennis," she took the cocoa with a grateful smile and felt a ghostly  
hand brush over her hair comfortingly. "I just...I really miss him." A trace  
of irony touched her smile. "I'm losing sleep because I miss a guy...I am so  
going soft."

As usual, her ghostly roommate said nothing but the cushions on the sofa  
shifted and Cordy moved to sit. No sooner had she done so than a blanket  
settled down over her.

"I know he's got the whole 'unending grief' thing going on about Buffy and  
he's got to deal with it and all that but..." She shook her head. "I still  
miss him and I want him back here, in L.A...with me." She sighed heavily,  
looking into the cocoa as if it held the divine secrets of the universe.  
"I'm jealous of a dead woman, Dennis. Buffy is *dead* and like all not  
haunty or anything and I'm jealous!"

The blanket moved more snugly about her: Dennis's way of offering comfort.

"I wasn't before, y'know. Buffy was in Sunnydale doing her thing, Angel was  
here in L.A. doing his and it was all good. They decided things would be  
that way. They *chose* it." She leaned her head against the sofa. "I could  
pretend he'd chosen to stay with me. Then Buffy has to go and *die*, totally  
blowing my perfectly constructed fantasy right out of the water."

Cordelia shook her head. "That came out wrong...It's not like I'm calling  
her death an inconvenience. I mean, we were friends and I'm still in  
complete shock but..." She sipped the cocoa, fortifying herself. "I'm still  
jealous of the hold she has on him. I can't break it no matter how hard I  
try, or wish. I guess him being gone dredged all this up..." She sighed. "I  
miss him, Dennis. I really *miss* him and I know, even when he does come  
home, there's gonna be this part of him that still belongs to her, a really  
big part. And that part's gonna have all the massive neon lights flashing  
'off limits' around it. It'll be even worse than before. Buffy won't just be  
the 'perfect woman', she'll be the dead perfect lover. I can't compete with  
a spectre." She chose not to say ghost out of deference to her ghostly  
roomie. Running a hand through her hair, she added. "He'll be here..." She  
gestured around her. "But not here." She rested a hand over her heart.

A hairbrush floated up and waited before her.

"Awww...Dennis," she smiled wearily. "You are beyond a treasure. *Way*  
beyond." Moving her head, Cordy sighed in contentment, the simple act of  
someone brushing her hair bringing the first taste of relaxation she'd had  
in a while. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

The brush continued to move steadily and she continued speaking, switching  
topics smoothly.

"I don't know, Dennis. Maybe letting myself feel like this about him...maybe  
it's the biggest mistake of my life. Maybe him being gone this long is my  
chance to get him out of my head y'know? To relegate him back to 'friend'  
status before its too late. Before everything goes - to quote Fred -  
'kablooey'. I mean, you know it will. Around here, sooner or later,  
everything goes 'kablooey'. It's like a really bad cosmic joke. Just when we  
think something can't get worse...it totally does."

The brush ceased its movements and she straightened up. "I'm sorry Dennis, I  
guess sleep deprivation's got me all broody. Either that or Angel's rubbing  
off on me."

The movement of the brush resumed and Cordelia sipped the cocoa. "Not that I'd  
mind...well, the rubbing part anyway. I can do without the brooding and stuff."  
Exhaling slowly, she smiled. "You'd think being y'know, undead and all, he'd  
be cold and...ripe." Her smile softened. "He's warm and...yummy. I mean, he's  
not *warm* in like a living-breathing sorta way but he's warm in that delicious  
soul-tingly way..."

She sighed. "I am *so* going soft...I mean, I'm waxing poetic about the way  
an undead vampire feels when I'm next to him..." A laugh escaped her then  
she shook her head. "Did I mention the way he smells? I mean the aftershave,  
cologne...whatever..."

The brush stopped and floated to rest on the glass table behind her.

"Dennis?" Turning, Cordy set down her cocoa and looked around in confusion.  
It wasn't like she could *see* him, but usually he didn't just disappear  
like that. "Where'd you go?"

The sound of cloth rustling was her answer and, from the depths of her  
bedroom, floated a shirt. A black sweater. She recognized it instantly.

It was Angel's.

A week before the news about Buffy had come, they'd faced a nasty looking  
squicky *thing*. She wasn't sure if it was a demon or a monster and she  
really didn't care. What had mattered was that it died messily. So messy her  
shirt had been completely totaled and Angel had given her one of his to  
wear.

Apparently, she hadn't gotten around to returning it.

A blush tinged at her cheeks ever so slightly. All right, she'd deliberately  
kept it.

It smelled like Angel.

"Dennis, you are a romantic." she teased with a wide smile. "I knew there  
was a reason we get along so well." Lifting up her arms, she allowed the  
ghost to help tug the shirt on before settling back, tucking her legs  
beneath her once more while Dennis fixed her blanket.

Closing her eyes, Cordelia rested her head against one of the cushions on  
the couch and let the scent of her absent friend surround her. If she  
pretended, wished hard enough, she could almost pretend she was with him.  
That he was with her.

And, for now, that was enough.

She didn't notice when the light shut off again, or when Dennis straightened  
out her legs, and adjusted her on the couch so she could rest comfortably,  
or when he took the remnants of her cocoa back into the kitchen. She noticed  
nothing but her dreams, wrapped in the illusion of Angel's arms...

And the wish that they were real.


End file.
